


Honeypot

by Hoodoo



Series: Orcish Inamorato [4]
Category: Orcs - Fandom, Original Work, exophilia - Fandom, tetarophila
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cock Piercing, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Folklore, Food Sex, Honey, Oral Sex, Sticky, Vaginal Sex, Wet & Messy, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-25 10:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Honey is collected and put to some adult playtime use . . .





	1. Chapter 1

“What happened to you?”

Grar’s brow furrowed at your question. You pointed to two sizable swellings on his outer forearm. They were obviously insect bites, and you automatically went through your apothecary supplies in your head as to what could be used to lessen the reaction.

The Orc twisted his arm to see down it. 

“Bees,” he said, as if that was explanation enough. It was. 

“I know where I can find some jewelweed,” you told him. “It’ll take the sting away.”

“How much of it is there?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“We may need it,” he continued. “Would you like to get some honey from their hive?”

⁂

It wasn’t an easy endeavor. The bees made their hive in a dying tree, and Grar was loathe to cut it down if it could be avoided. The insects had been nesting there for a long time, he reasoned, and wouldn’t have enough time to relocate and set up a new colony before winter hit. And if only a portion of the honey was collected, it could be harvested again in the future. 

He explained all this as he led you to the tree. You didn’t know exactly where he was taking you, but eventually you could hear a constant, low murmur in the background of the other noises the forest made. Grar told you it was the bees.

After it’d been pointed out, you understood it was a droning buzz. Then, before you knew it, your husband stopped you and pointed up the trunk of the tree. 

Craning your neck, you just make out a knothole that the bees gathered around. It was halfway up.

“Since the tree isn’t healthy, I think the trunk is hollow. At least up there, where they’ve made their hive. It being so high keeps it safer from bears. They haven’t had a chance to sniff it out.”

“It makes it slightly more difficult for us to get to it too,” you agreed drily. 

The Orc nodded. 

You were both careful not to aggravate the bees. Your discussion lasted a while; it was obvious you were going to have to be the one to actually climb the tree and do most of the work, because the tree wouldn’t support Grar’s weight. There was talk of what to use for protection from stings. Grar suggested a pelt--if it was good enough for bears, it would work for you too! But you disagreed, because maneuverability would be nil and when you did extract the honey, it’d get in the fur and ruin it. 

Smoke would work to make the bees drowsy, and doing the whole thing at night would help too. You also said that you’d coat any exposed skin thickly in mud for some extra defense. Grar laughed at the mental image of that, but couldn’t disagree. 

Since there was no way to tell when the weather would turn chilly enough to also help placate the insects, you decided to just gather what you needed and proceed.

The next evening, you brought a roll of greased paper and a bucketful of thick clay from the streambed. Grar collected the kindling and fresh pine branches for the fire; the green limbs would give off clouds of smoke. At the base of the tree, you both cleared the brush away from the forest floor down to the dirt, and he started the fire just as the sun sank below the horizon. 

Your husband offered to help smear the mud on your neck, face, and hands. You batted him away, telling him he needed his hands clean to wrap up the honey! He agreed, but continued to laugh as you coated yourself. You didn’t care how you looked; this was well worth it if it worked.

Finally, billows of smoke surrounded the two of you and drifted high. It would have been ideal if there was no breeze and the smoke simply rose straight from the fire, but occasionally wind would tickle it away for a moment. Although it wasn’t as helpful, it was a reprieve for your eyes and throat, which burned, watered, and felt dry.

“Ready?”

You nodded. Grar picked you up by the waist, a familiar gesture between the two of you. At his face level, the amusement of your dirty condition was still in his eyes, and you teased to kiss him and share the mud. Dramatically he pulled his head away and lifted you higher so you could catch the nearest branch.

Despite his theatrics, he pulled his jaw and tusks down your belly as you climbed over him. 

Over your shoulder you threw him a smile, then started climbing.

Due to the placement of the limbs, it took a little time for you to get to the knothole. You moved slowly and smoothly, both because it was dark and you didn’t want to stir up the bees. By the time you’d made it to a branch just lower than the entrance to the hive, several were flying around you. You didn’t swat at them, even when a few landed on your arms. You simply settled into a more stable position by sitting on the branch and leaning against the trunk, and waited for a moment for the insects to settle down again. 

“All right?” Grar called, below you.

It didn’t surprise you that he’d tried to stay underneath you as you circumnavigated the trunk. 

“I’m fine. Just giving the bees a second to relax.”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t look down. 

Finally, even though they were still flying and investigating, you decided to try and open up the knothole. If Grar was correct and the tree was hollow, it shouldn’t be difficult. If it wasn’t, or if the hive extended upwards instead of down, you may need to come back with a hatchet.

Using a knife that Grar didn’t mind making dull, you pushed it into the hive’s entrance. That made the bees more agitated, and more flew out around the blade. Carefully, even though many settled on your hand and wrist, you wiggled it, testing the tree’s integrity. 

The movement made one bee sting you on the back of the hand. You hissed through your teeth at the pain. Grar asked if you were still okay. You told him yes, and continued. 

It took some time and several more stings--your hand was going to be swollen, but you had potions to help with that--but your husband was right. The trunk of the tree was weak from rot, and in a wet crack, a hunk of the bark and inner wood came off in your hand. It made you jerk, which angered the bees more, so you stayed completely still until they relaxed a little again.

Quietly you called over your shoulder that you were dropping some wood, and let it fall to the ground. 

In the dark, you could just see that the entrance to the hive was bigger. It would be helpful to enlarge it to get your hand inside, so you gently sawed away at it some more. Another fistful of wood came away, and there was a bit of honeycomb attached to it. You grinned, told Grar to watch out once more, and dropped it too. 

Once more you sat completely still while the bees investigated the destruction to their home. You could smell the honey down inside, and knew the next part of the operation was the most delicate. 

You needed to reach into the hive and pull the honeycomb out. Blindly. 

After what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, you told Grar you were going to start, and hopefully the next thing to drop was going to be what you came for!

He told you to be careful and go slowly. Silently you agreed, and eased your hand into the hive. 

Immediately you were stung, but you continued to bear the pain and didn’t jerk your hand out. Inside the hive, you could feel so many insects, moving like a single entity. The sensation was a little disconcerting. Gently you felt the waxy comb and sticky honey. It seemed like there was no break in it, like the entire inside of the tree was honeycomb, so you simply pushed your fingers into it. The comb broke easily and coated you with more honey, and when you felt like you had a good grip, you pulled it away from the trunk and back out.

It was hard to see it, but it smelled divine. With a grin you knew Grar could hear in your voice, you dropped the prize. You didn’t wait to make sure he picked it up before you repeated the procedure again.

All told, you extracted four handfuls of honeycomb and honey. From what you could determine, the hive continued deep into the trunk. If you wanted to get more, you’d have to open the entrance further down, and you didn’t want to attempt that tonight. 

You told Grar you were coming down. He murmured his agreement, and just as carefully as you climbed up, you came to earth the same way. Your stung hand was sticky and almost useless, which made you slower, and Grar caught you to steady you as soon as he could to make it easier for you. Once you were on the ground, he opened your apothecary satchel and popped the seal of the health potion you’d created, handing it to you.

You drank it. It was weak; your alchemy skills were just budding, but it took away the majority of the pain and some of the swelling. You fished into your satchel and found something else to help: the same plants you’d used on Grar the day before. The jewelweed stems you’d collected along the way to the honey tree were bruised and limp, but their sap still finished the job of making the pain dissipate in your stung hand and wrist. 

Grar told you to rest while he tamped out the fire. He’d wrapped the honeycomb securely in the greased paper you’d brought, and you put it into your satchel to carry it home. 

Finally, when all the embers were dead, the two of you walked back to your cabin in the dark. 

⁂

Once home, you both discarded your smoke-permeated clothing outside the cabin and walked nude down to the pool to bathe. Your eyes had adjusted to not having any light, so neither of you carried a lantern. Along the way, you licked your palm. Although your hand was still streaked with dried mud and flavored with pine smoke, the sweetness of the honey exploded in your mouth.

Grar stepped into the pool and held his hand out to help you into it as well. In the dark, the water looked inky. Before you put your hand under to wash it of the residual stickiness, you offered it to him. 

“Have a taste?”

You couldn’t see subtle expressions on his face due to not having any light, but you imagined a surprised, then intrigued look by his response.

“Just lick your hand?”

You nodded. “Yes!”

Without waiting for him to agree, you raised your hand to his face.

He took your wrist. You could feel his breath--first from his nose, then a larger puff as he opened his mouth--and his dipped his head closer. You felt his lips and his tusks on either side of your hand, and then his tongue was the cup of your palm.

He was tentative at first. His breath quickened, and for a moment just the tip of his tongue touched you, but then it relaxed and you felt the wider portion of it sweep your skin. Once, then again.

The sensation awoke a flame in your belly. You wanted to feel his mouth and tongue all over you, not just your hand, His grip wasn’t tight on your wrist, and your hand moved slightly downward in opposition to his upward stroke, and he cleaned the underside of your fingers too. The tops were still dirty, so you didn’t slip any into his mouth, but it took some concentration to stop from doing so. 

Grar stopped and released your hand. You panted a little for breath, just as he did. You trembled, and it wasn’t because of the water’s temperature. 

He pulled you up against him. The pool became deep enough that you could be completely submerged, and that’s where he’d planted his feet, so you felt weightless beside him. To anchor yourself, you wrapped one leg around his waist, which made it obvious he’d been aroused too as his erection was caught between you.

“Would you like to fuck here? In the water?” you asked, holding on to his shoulders and grinding your hips ever so slightly against his groin.

Grar groaned. “Are you certain you’re not Näkki or nixe?”

You laughed. “You’ve seen me from the front and the back!”

“Yes. You’re beautiful front and back, and I’ve never seen a fish tail.”

“There you go,” you said, continuing to rub against him. 

“Maybe you’re just good at hiding it.”

You laughed aloud again, and nipped his chest. Grar gasped as you did; you’d learned it was from the pleasure he got from a mildly painful bite.

Your husband lifted you to be level with his face. You gave a disappointed groan--rocking your groin against his wasn’t just stimulating for him!--and he pressed his forehead into yours. 

“I want to get cleaned of the smell of pine smoke. I want you to wash away the mud,” he said quietly, with a touch of urgency in his tone. “And then I want to go back to our bed and have some more honey.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the erotic image that flashed through your mind, and you hastily agreed. 

_ tbc . . ._


	2. Chapter 2

You washed as quickly as you could and still be thorough. Grar was done before you, of course; he only had to wash the smoke off his skin and out of his hair. Once he was done, he knotted his hair to keep it out of the pool and helped you. The clay you’d coated yourself with had dried, but in the water became soft and slimy again, and took some actual scrubbing to get off completely. 

Your husband made sure the mud and soap was out of your hair, then spent the rest of the time you were bathing touching you between your legs and holding you against him, to tease. 

Giggling, you squirmed away and admonished that the longer he kept that up, the longer it was going to take for you to actually get done!

Begrudgingly, but with humor, he agreed. 

Once finally finished, you exited the pool first, earning a pinch on your backside. As you turned back to him, Grar stepped out too and you reached around him to return the favor. You also added a quick tug to his cock, which made him gasp a little.

Instead of continuing, you skipped away and led him back to the cabin. Since you neglected to bring anything to dry yourselves with, you started on the path dripping wet, but were only damp by the time you got back to your door. Your hair still hung in strings while Grar’s had dried more. He kept it in its messy knot instead of letting it free.

The fire in the fireplace was minimal and Grar tossed another log of dried hardwood on it. As the flames started eating it and made the room brighter, you held up a small piece of honeycomb you’d broken off and held it up.

The honey was made more golden in the dancing light of the fire. A bit slowly trickled down your finger. 

“You said you were interested in this?” you asked coyly.

Your husband turned. Standing half awash in light and half in shadow, he looked imposing, but you could see the amusement on his face. His heavy cock had waned a bit while you’d trekked back to the cabin, but it twitched as you moved to him.

“Let me--” he started, but you interrupted him by going down in front of him. 

He was too tall for you to take him in your mouth if you knelt. You didn’t try. Instead, you lightly crushed some of the waxy comb to release more of the honey, and reaching upward, you let it drip onto the head of his cock. Without touching him, you drizzled the sweet along his shaft. 

You looked up his body to watch him; Grar watched what you were doing. His mouth opened slightly and his attention was riveted. You smiled and had no idea if he saw it.

A faint glistening caught your eye. The honey was thin enough that a bead of it had trickled down to the pierced bar below the tip of his cock and was almost about to fall. For a second you delighted in seeing the gold of his piercing and the gold of the honey in the firelight. Then stretching upwards, you caught the liquid with your tongue and gave a swift circular lick to the head of his cock in the same motion. Within the sweet of the honey there was a mild saltiness from the pre-come that had made its own glistening bead at the slit of his cock.

It was a light touch but Grar jolted. You smiled again.

“Sit down,” you ordered him.

He obeyed without hesitation, backing up until his legs hit the bed and he sat on the mattress. You followed him on your knees. Now he was more fully lit by the fire and it was mostly at your back. Its warmth felt good after the chill of the stream. Grar spread his legs and you settled into place between them, still holding the bit of honeycomb. 

You reapplied some to the place you’d licked it off, and before your husband could say anything, you closed your mouth over him.

Grar moaned loudly.

His cock was too thick for you to comfortably take him in fully, but you tried. Holding your breath and relaxing your jaw, you swallowed as much as you could. The sweetness of the honey didn’t make it physically easier, just added a different dimension to the taste of him. His cock was warm and the gold bar pressed into your tongue. When you couldn’t go any further you held still until you were almost out of air, then released him, keeping your lips around him as you did just to hear the pitch of his moan change as you did. 

You repeated the motion again and again, occasionally adding more honey. In a short time, his groin was a sticky mess of sugar and spit. When your jaw needed a rest, you adjusted your position to lick and suck along his shaft, holding the base of his cock steady with your free hand. His moans and gasps filled your ears, and you heard an occasional Orcish word interspersed. You’d heard them often enough to know they were both profanities and praises.

You ran your tongue on the underside of his cock and found a bit of honey still coating his piercing. You turned your attention to it, capturing it with light suction between your lips, and used the hand holding him to give him an upward stroke.

Grar bucked at the stimulation, giving a loud, open-mouthed moan at the same time. One hand caught the side of your head and you stopped to look up at him. 

Sweat had broken out on his chest, which heaved with the effort of panting. His lips and tusks were shiny where he’d licked them, and his eyes were dark with arousal. You felt his thighs shake.

“Was that too much?” you asked.

“N-no,” he disagreed. It sounded like his throat was dry.

“So I should do it again?” you asked cheekily, pulling your hand back up his cock and dipping your head. You kept eye contact with him as you did.

Before your lips made contact with the gold bar again, however, your husband said, “Use your teeth?”

His voice was thick and had a faint tremble to it, which gave his words the inflection of a query. 

You hesitated only a second to consider his request, then tilted your head a bit more and opened your mouth a little wider. You lips went more around the shaft of his cock and your front teeth met the gold bar. You gave it an experimental nibble, and the noise he made at that eclipsed the one before it. 

After a smile that broke the seal of your lips on him, you did it again. You teased him by trapping it with your teeth and flicking it with your tongue. You were gentle, but used your teeth to apply heavier pressure to his piercing. Even more gently, you tugged it lightly. He groaned and cried out, no longer able to use words. When you remembered, you stroked him too, and the combination of them both made him bellow his pleasure. 

It wasn’t long before he stopped you, pulling your head away from his cock. A moan of disappointment left your mouth too. 

“Why’d you stop me? Don’t you want to come?” you asked.

“I do--it was so good!” Grar agreed. “But this isn’t just for me--I never wanted it to just be for me. I want to taste honey on your skin--”

He dislodged you, stood and helped you to your feet. His cock jutted out and was shiny in the firelight, so even as he turned you so your were nearer the bed you couldn’t help but bend over and suck his cock into your mouth one last time. 

He groaned and then asked you to lay on the bed. With only one free hand it was difficult, so he helped you with that too. Honey had run halfway down your forearm, so you wiped at it with your other hand, gathering it in your fingertips. 

Grar sat on the edge of the bed and took the smashed bit of honeycomb from your hand. You went to put your fingers in your mouth, but he caught your wrist and brought them to his own face instead, similar to what you’d done in the pool. This time, however, he took them fully into his mouth. 

You laughed and then moaned as he removed the residual honey from your hand. He used varying suction on each finger, sending interesting jolts up your arm. His tongue was wide as he licked your wrist clean too.

“That feels nice,” you murmured.

He gave you a flash of a smile as he raised his head. Using the pinch of honeycomb he held, he dabbed it on your shoulder, in the hollow of your neck, and on each nipple. 

Before you could say anything, he licked the smears of honey off you in the order applied. 

You wiggled a little with the tickle of his tusks and warmth of his mouth on your shoulder and neck, and gasped aloud as he latched onto one nipple and sucked it to hardness. The second one he was more gentle, not using as much force, but he did nip at it with his teeth in a similar fashion you’d used on his cock piercing. You gasped again, and wouldn’t have been able to answer which stimulation you liked better. 

Grar released your nipple and sat back. Your nipples remained stiff and were just as shiny with spit as his cock had been. As he looked down on you, determining where to next anoint you with honey, your free hand cupped your breast and pinched your nipple, just for the pleasurable feeling again. Your husband watched what your hand was doing and his tongue licked his lower lip.

You still had a liquid honey on your other hand, and during his pause, you painted a line of it down your belly. You stopped at your pubic hair and, making sure he was paying attention, spread your legs to apply a dab to the inside of one thigh. 

Then, since he was still not doing anything with the almost depleted comb in his fingers, you stole it back from him, and crushed it completely. The remaining honey you boldly smeared onto the folds of your pussy. Your first fingers brushed the most sensitive nub of nerves found there and you gasped. Once more you watched him while he watched what your hand was doing, so you rubbed a small circle on the same spot.

The resulting pleasure made you give a breathy moan, and your back arched involuntarily. You wanted to continue, wanted to keep touching yourself until the pleasure peaked, but more than that, you wanted Grar’s mouth on you.

So you pulled your hand away and twisted on the mattress to awkwardly toss the sticky, waxy remains of the honeycomb in the general direction of the fire. You didn’t see exactly where it landed, and hoped it went into the flames, but if not, cleaning it up would be something to deal with later.

You turned back to your husband and offered him the fingers coated with honey and the taste of you as well. 

There was no hesitation now. He engulfed your fingers, cleaning them with abandon. You laughed like you had before and when he finished, cupped his jaw before dropping your hand again. 

Grar’s eyes skipped down your body again, and stopped at the juncture between your legs.

“I’m worried,” he admitted quietly.

He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. You knew his concern about the possibility of injuring you with his tusks if he used his mouth on your pussy. You also knew he wanted to try. You reassured him, 

“Grar, you’re between my legs all the time. Your waist is wider than your head, and I spread my legs easily enough for that!”

He chuckled, and agreed.

“So . . . tonight?”

His tongue prodded one tusk as he considered a little longer. Then, quickly, as if he didn’t want to accidently change his mind, he told you yes.

You expected him to shift position on the mattress, but he didn’t. Staying at your side, he actually went to his knees on the floor and leaned over you. It was unexpected, and you almost stopped him to ask him back up and between your legs, but Grar dropped his head to the smear of honey on your midsection, and swiped the stickiness away with broad licks and the occasional nip. It tickled and it felt good, and you didn’t force him to move. 

He ravished your stomach, giving you exaggerated movements from his tongue and mouth as he made his way further down. As he made it to your mons, your hand took his shoulder, but he skipped your pubic area completely and latched onto the spot you’d dabbed the honey on your inner thigh. He sucked hard enough that you gasped and jerked your leg away from him; you wondered if he’d left a red mark that would linger until tomorrow. 

Grar paused and cocked his head to look back up your body at you. His hand slipped under the knee that was closest to him and you allowed him to move it so your legs were spread a little more widely. His chest, where he leaned over you, was warm on your skin. Reaching a little further, your fingers brushed over the tip of his pointed ear and to the side of his head.

With a small huff of air that passed over your pussy, Grar lowered his head to it and gave you a tentative lick. 

Although the position was slightly awkward with him stretching over your hip and leg, the sensation was not. You cried out. His tongue was hot as it slipped through your folds. It was like nothing you’d felt before: his fingers were good, his cock was good, but this was divine. You could feel varying pressure, from the exploration using the tip of his tongue to softer, broader strokes through your whole pussy.

The fingers you’d left on his head tightened, scrabbling for a grip they couldn’t find in the shaved hair on the sides and back of his skull. 

Orcish tusks were not easily ignored, and causing injury to you was his fear. His tusks were a constant presence; one dug into the fleshy mound of your mons while the other was lower, against the other end of your pussy, where his cock slipped inside you. But he was conscious of them, and was obviously making sure not to push too hard against you. The slight discomfort from their pressure was bearable, especially with pleasure overriding it.

Grar licked your slowly at first, as if to gauge what he may be able to do and your reaction to it, but when you didn’t stop him, when your cries undulated, when you tried to lift your hips to meet his mouth, he lost some of his restraint and used his tongue faster, then slower, then faster again.

You gasped and shook under him. The pleasure was different than fucking; your pussy felt hot and soft and wet. This was decadence and greedily you wanted more. Physical bliss radiated from your groin deep into your belly, and when Grar’s exploration revealed that attention to the harder nub of tissue at the top of your pussy resulted in the loudest cry, he curled his tongue around it. He lapped at it. He pressed the meat of his tongue against it, then delicately suckled at it, and in a rush that made you fold in the middle, you wailed and came.

Ecstasy flooded your body. It was similar to the climaxes you’d experienced with his cock deep inside you, but more concentrated. Your legs trembled and your hands shook, and when you finally slipped back into reality you became aware that tears streaked your cheeks. 

You wiped them away, but not before Grar noticed the wet tracks on your face. 

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked, with worry in his voice. His hand slid over your stomach to feel for any wound his tusk may have caused. 

“No, you didn’t. I'm not hurt! It was just so _good.”_

It took several moments of reassuring him and not finding a physical injury before he was convinced. You told him you had no idea it would be like that and how much you liked it. You felt wanton and indulged. 

Grar looked down at you. Sweat cooled your body and your breath still came quickly. Before you relaxed completely, however, you asked him back onto the bed, shifting as he complied to give him room. He tried to settle properly between your legs, but you didn’t let him; you pushed him back onto the mattress and straddled him instead.

He allowed you to manipulate him as you wanted.

On your knees, you lay on his broad chest. You kissed his jaw and his mouth, and then, as you moved back, you dragged your own jaw down his chest. A deep groan rumbled in him, and you grinned.

Sitting up again, you raised yourself on your knees and reached between you. Your hand took his heavy cock; it still had a slight residual stickiness that made you release him to bring your hand back to your face and lick your palm before grasping him again. Grar grabbed your thighs and opened his mouth as you held him steady and lowered yourself onto him.

Your pussy, so soft and wet from honey, Orcish spit, and your own climax, opened to his cock easily, and you both moaned as you settled fully onto his groin. It was blissful to have him so deeply seated inside you, and instead of lifting yourself up again to repeat the friction, you simply rolled your hips and arched your back to create waves of pleasure to wash through you. 

Grar didn’t complain; he held tight to your thighs and threw his head back as his moans became more urgent and sharper. His legs tensed underneath you.

You reached back behind yourself and fondled his bollocks gently. They were tacky too, from the honey that had run down to them. You felt them tighten and knew he was close to coming. 

You didn’t increase your pace. Keeping your movements smooth and deep, your free hand slipped back to your own pussy. The sensation of being split and filled by a thick cock plus the light circles you made on the nub that Grar had lavished so much attention on you’d already climaxed once made you shudder and cry out. 

In another eternity of seconds, you came again. You couldn’t control how hard you pressed down on him. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and the shudder became a quake. You had to hold yourself up with your hands on his chest.

The Orc below you tensed as well as you rode through your climax, and just as the pleasure started to dissipate he thrust up into you. The move made you bounce and gasp in surprise, but his hands held you in place. With his head still thrown back and his eyes closed, even without his uncontrolled bellow you knew he came too.

You didn’t move until he’d relaxed again and was able to release your legs and open his eyes again. Carefully you peeled yourself off. Your groins were sodden, sticky messes but you were beyond the ability to care. Sweet exhaustion made your body loose and heavy. 

You collapsed to Grar’s side and lay there, panting.

Grar panted too, his thick chest rising enough to block your view of the fire before falling again. 

“I like honey,” you told him.

His breathing paused for a second, then a chuckle that became a laugh erupted from him. You joined in the mirth.

You knew it would be best to get up and wash again. You had a bucket of water that would do the job, but it was so nice to just lay here and feel the last of the ecstasy you’d shared slowly ebb away. It’d make more work for you tomorrow, cleaning the traces of honey out of the blankets, but for now, it was worth just staying where you were.

_fin._


End file.
